


To Possess

by melonbutterfly



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-29
Updated: 2010-03-29
Packaged: 2017-10-12 23:40:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/130434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melonbutterfly/pseuds/melonbutterfly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean has never really had anything for himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	To Possess

Dean has never really had anything for himself.

Sure, he has normal possessions like (and not to belittle her, he loves his baby) his car, his clothes and books and tapes and CD's and one or two little keepsakes, as well as his weapons (all of which he needs for the job), but as he sits there and stares at the angel, the _person_ in front of him, he thinks that he has never really owned anything. Not anything that counts.

And as he looks at Castiel who is staring back with wide, weirdly deep and expressionless, though not empty eyes, he wants. Wants in a way that is totally foreign to him, that he has perhaps never known before; he wants with a reckless abandon that would disgust him in anybody else. Doesn't disgust him in himself, though—the opposite, he revels in it.

It doesn't come as a surprise to him; he has felt it building deep inside for weeks, months. He isn't surprised to find it finally boiling over, nearly overwhelming him in the process.

He is, however, surprised by the intensity, the deepness of the emotion, how it all-encompasses him in a way he could never have imagined, much less expected. A part of him is quivering with terror, yelling at him to run away and keep safe, safe from this, from the way it'll change him, take control, make him do things he doesn't want to do. But he knows with a deep sureness that is not completely foreign to him (he felt it when he made the deal trading himself for Sam), but still unexpected, that it's too late, way too late, that it was perhaps too late the second he first laid eyes on Castiel—that, perhaps, the moment when he felt the hand on his shoulder, scorching deep and wrenching him out of hell, his life began anew under parameters so different it took him until now to detect the most important one of them.

And he looks at Castiel and thinks, _should I think about this?_ Should he be scared? Should he doubt and hesitate and hide until he is frozen like Han Solo in carbonite, unable to move or think or do anything but wait for his delivery?

And he thinks, _No_.

He wants to own Castiel. Of course he knows that he never will, that Castiel always, no matter what, will belong to his Father, but he also knows that in a way that nobody, not even Castiel or Dean himself has control over, Castiel belongs to him. That no matter what happens, in a way Castiel will always be with him, just like Dean will always be with Castiel, in a way. Because of this.

"I love you, you know," he says, because he wants Castiel to know that, and he is surprised by the sound of his own voice as it disrupts the pocket of stillness around him; somewhere to his left Sam gasps and drops something, but Dean is not paying attention, doesn't care. He just wants Castiel to know that a small part of him will always belong to Dean, that a small part of Dean will always belong to Castiel, even if he does not want it. He takes a perverse pleasure in the knowledge that it is out of both their control, this.

In front of him, Castiel closes his eyes and lowers his head.


End file.
